


Eren Discovers A Song of Ice and Fire

by Mel_eficent



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Books, Domestic Fluff, Eren is a Big Goober, Fluff, M/M, Reading, shameless fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 19:58:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8814283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mel_eficent/pseuds/Mel_eficent
Summary: Alternative title: Eren becomes a masive nerd and Armin deserves the boyfriend of the year award for putting up with him





	

**Author's Note:**

> *claws my way out of my grave of 18 months of inactivity* I LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!
> 
> All of you, probably: Hey, what about those other things you still haven't finished?  
> Me hissing: GET BACK YOU SAVAGES!!!!
> 
> Alright, enough of the theatrics. This started out as a series of headcanons I made with my friend BevyBee about 2 years ago now, and I finally decided I'd properly turn it into a fic after all this time (which is pretty par-for-the-course with my writing promises B) *fingerguns*)  
> This is just shameless self-indulgence, but I'm proud of it kinda, so I hope you enjoy it :)

“‘ _Anna was not in lilac, the colour Kitty was so sure she ought to have worn, but in a low-necked black velvet dress which exposed her full shoulder and bosom that seemed to be carved out of old ivory, and her rounded arms with the very small-_ ’ Eren, what are you doing?”

Armin’s gaze flicked from the page of his book to Eren, his head nestled comfortably in Armin’s lap. His eyes were glazed over and soft, and he had a goofy smile plastered over his face.

“Ya know,” he started, shifting his weight to lift his arm, “Whenever you get really into reading something, you get the _tiniest_ itty bitty little crinkle in your eyebrows. Riiiiiiiiiiiiight…” He drew out the word as his index finger reached out and poked the spot directly above Armin’s nose, “There!”

“Hey!” Armin said, lazily swatting Eren’s hand away.

“It’s adorable,” Eren said, still smiling, “ _You’re_ adorable.”

Armin rolled his eyes and gave Eren a playful shove. “Stop being cute, can I get back to reading my favourite book please?”

“Oh man, how do you stomach that thing? It’s so… so…”

Armin smirked over his reading glasses, “Brilliant?”

“ _Dense!_ ” Eren threw his arms up and waved them around as he spoke. “I mean look at the size of that monster! It’s like a brick!  And the whole thing is just rich people talking about their fancy clothes and how many courses they had for breakfast!”

Armin raised an eyebrow. “Sure, mock one of the greatest romances of literary history, see if I put out tonight.”

Eren grumbled and made a frowny face; it would look comical if he wasn’t being completely sincere. “Fine,” he said, “Just don’t drop it on me, I like my face the way it is: intact.”

“Keep talking like that and maybe I _will_ drop it on you,” Armin smirked.

Ever since they were young, when the two boys would spend countless sleepovers under the covers with a flashlight and a mountain of books, Armin had read aloud his favourite stories to Eren. Apart from Eren and Mikasa, books were Armin’s greatest love, ever since his Grandfather had given him his old copy of _Canterbury Tales_ when he was a child. Now, after a long day of classes or work, the two of them would snuggle up together on the sofa or in their bed, and Armin would read to Eren.

Eren did not share Armin’s love of reading, avoiding it whenever he could. He _hated_ it. Few things on this earth were more skin-crawlingly infuriating to Eren Jaeger as sitting still, being quiet, and focusing. Reading generally required all three. But Eren found something about listening to Armin’s voice absolutely captivating. He spoke with such passion and rapture, it was transfixing. Armin’s voice was the one thing he found always managed to cheer him up or calm him down, even if he didn’t pay attention to the words.

Armin smiled down at his boyfriend, running fingers slowly through his auburn hair, and kept reading.

 

***

 

“I’m home!” Eren’s voice called, followed by the slamming of the front door. Armin winced. Eren was gonna break it if he kept doing that.

Armin could hear him rooting around in the kitchen before he stomped into the living room, ranting the whole time. “God! I fucking _HATE_ my job! So this asshole comes in right before closing and just _lets_ his fucking kid take a water cup and start stealing Icees from our machine! So of course I have to be all ‘hey quit it, I’m gonna have to pay for that’ and he FLIPS his fucking shit! Yelling about how I’m giving his fucking gremlin attitude!” Eren stood in the doorway and took a swig of cheap, lukewarm wine, his glass half empty already. “He was so angry his hands were shaking, like what, are you gonna fight? Like I don’t have years of lack of self-preservation under my belt? I’ll lose my job if it means laying a bitch out in a Target café, I don’t care.”

Eren fell onto the couch next to Armin, and buried his head in his boyfriend’s chest, groaning. Armin sighed and stroked his hair. Eren was always complaining about something to do with the in-Target Starbucks he worked at: customers, his pay, his boss. Armin couldn’t fault him for it though, he vividly remembered working the register and drive through at Checkers when he was in college; Eren had every right to be upset. “I know it sucks, but you can’t lose this job, Eren,” He tried his best to sound sympathetic, “We need all the money we can get.”

Eren sighed into Armin’s chest, his warm breath heating up his shirt. “I know,” he rolled over and drained the last of the wine, “Read to me?” He said, voice soft and pleading.

Armin smiled, and grabbed the book sitting on coffee table next to him, clearing his throat.

“ _‘The sound of laughter made Viserys lift his eyes. “Khal Drogo,” he said thickly, his voice almost polite. “I’m here for the feast.” He staggered away from Ser Jorah, making to join the three_ khals _on the high bench…_

 

***

 

“ _‘When the gold was half melted and starting to run, Drogo reached into the flames, snatched out the pot. “Crown!” he roared. “Here. A crown for Cart King!” And upended the pot over the head of the man who had been her brother._

_The sound Viserys Targaryen made when the hideous iron helmet covered his face was nothing human. His feet hammered a frantic beat against the dirt floor, slowed, stopped. Thick globs of molten gold dripped down onto his chest, setting the scarlet silk’_ -”

“Woah, hang on a second…” Eren interrupted, his voice sounding distant. Armin wasn’t gonna lie, he was a tad annoyed at having to stop. “…What is this?”

Armin blinked a couple times. Ok, _that_ was different. He was expecting Eren to have remembered something mundane, like a show about to come on TV or that he needed to do his laundry; Eren had never taken an interest in the books Armin read to him. “…It’s …called _A Game of Thrones_ ,” he said, carefully thinking over his words. “It’s the first book in a modern fantasy epic.”

“Huh,” Eren said. His brows furrowed, eyes darted this way and that, and his mouth twitched as half formed thoughts died before becoming words. Armin knew that look. Eren’s mind was racing.

A slow smile crept upon Armin’s lips. He decided to give Eren a helpful little nudge. “Did you like it?”

The question hung heavy in the air, before Eren finally began to muster a response. “…Y-yeah, actually…” He smiled, turning to look at Armin. “I mean, I didn’t understand everything that was going on but… _fuck_ , that was _exciting_!”

Armin chuckled. “Do you want to hear some more?”

Eren nodded vigorously.

Armin returned his attention to the book in his hands, flipping back to the first page.

“ _‘“We should start back,” Gared urged as the woods began to grow dark around them…’_ ”

 

***

 

 “C’mon Armin! You can’t stop there!”

Armin sighed, dog-earing the page he was on and putting it and his glasses on the nightstand. Littlefinger had just proved himself be the doublecrossing snake he always said he was by turning Ned over to the Lannisters. Armin agreed, it was kind of a dick move to end on the cliff-hanger, but he blamed George R.R. Martin for that. It had been about a week since he had introduced Eren to _A Game of Thrones_ , and not a day had gone by that Eren hadn’t raced home from work as fast as he could so he could hear what happened to House Stark.

“Eren, c’mon, it’s late and we both have work tomorrow.” He switched the bed-side lamp off and sank deeper into the soft, warm bed. Eren decided to switch his lamp on and sat up, looking frantic.

“Just one more chapter? _Please_?”

Armin groaned. “You said that three chapters ago.”

Eren’s face contorted into the best puppy dog whine he could muster. “But I really mean it this time! Please? Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleeeeaaaaase?”

Armin sighed again. That face was his damn kryptonite, he swore. “Look, I have a big day tomorrow and need to go to bed, but if you want to keep reading you’re more than welcome to.”

He grabbed the book and held it out to Eren, who only stared at it. “R-really?”

“Sure,” Armin smiled. “Be my guest.”

Eren gingerly reached out, before snatching up the book eagerly. Armin laid down and closed his eyes again, before realising that the bedside lamp was still on. “In the living room please, Eren.”

“Sorry,” Armin felt the bed shift as Eren stood up and left the room, turning off the light as we went.

He knew he’d find Eren asleep on the couch tomorrow morning with the open book sprawled across his face. That, or he’d still be up, and have finished the book entirely.

Armin hoped for the former.

 

***

 

“…You’re joking.” Jean stared at Armin from across the break room table, eyebrows almost in his hairline.

Armin held back a laugh, “No, I’m serious! He’s really into it! He was up until 2 am last night yelling ‘The King in the North’, I had to kick him out of bed.”

Armin took a sip of his coffee, watching the lines in Jean’s face deepen as he stared off into space. “Eren Jaeger…” he muttered, “…is reading.”

Armin hummed, swallowing his coffee, “Entirely of his own volition.”

He smiled, eyes half lidded, feeling very smug. He wasn’t gonna lie; it felt really good to be able to share this with Eren. _A Song of Ice and Fire_ was one of his greatest loves; all of his first edition paperbacks were tattered, their spines breaking from reread after reread. He even bought the limited edition hard-backed set with fabric covers. He didn’t touch those, just kept them on display on a shelf all to themselves.

Eren was a diehard Stark supporter, sympathising with their honour-bound righteousness. Armin personally felt that was a bit of a simplistic viewpoint, and thought that some of the Starks’ actions were pretty damn hypocritical. He liked the Lannisters the most, they were really complex and interesting villains, and he felt they truly understood how the world worked.

Still, it made him really happy that Eren was enjoying them as much as he did, even if he was a little… overzealous sometimes. Plus Jean was right, it really was astounding that Eren Jaeger was actually reading an actual book with actual pages and everything. Armin felt a surge of pride, both for the fact that Eren was giving his brain a work out, and because it was all thanks to him in the first place.

Armin’s phone began to buzz in his pocket. “Oh, hold that thought.” He pulled the phone out and swiped right to answer the call. It was Eren. “Eren?”

“Armin!” Eren’s voice blared through the speakers, gushing with excitement, “I bought the next book!”

“You bo-…” Armin trailed off, realising what Eren had said, “You bought _Clash of Kings_?”

“Yes!” Eren yelled, “It’s so good Armin! I’m reading it right now!”

Armin drew his eyebrows together and sighed, “Eren… I own the whole series, you could have borrowed it, or waited until you got home to keep-”

“I couldn’t wait that long!” Eren sounded offended that Armin would even suggest such a thing. Armin just shook his head, _this boy_.

“Alright, enjoy… don’t let Levi catch you reading that thing when you should be working.” Armin was very concerned about his boyfriend’s work ethic.

“But I CAN’T PUT IT DOW-”

Armin hung up; he knew at this point there really wasn’t any arguing with him.

He just hoped Eren wouldn’t miss the bus stop on the way home.

 

***

 

Armin had hoped that with Eren’s new found love of reading, he might get to enjoy a few more quiet evenings. Sadly, he was very much mistaken.

“Oh, C’MON! SERIOUSLY?”

Armin sighed, mentally preparing himself for Eren’s imminent arrival. Before long he was bursting into the living room, book in hand, all but ready to fight George R.R. Martin. “Renly’s dead!” Eren yelled as he raced to Armin’s side, “I can’t believe it! He didn’t even get to do anything!”

Really, Armin shouldn’t have been surprised; Eren was never one to keep anything to himself, or to be particularly quiet, _especially_ when watching a movie or TV show. Armin shouldn’t have thought reading a book would be any different.

He smiled, turning the page of his own book. “I know.”

“I was so expecting him to do a number on the Lannisters!”

“I know.”

“George R.R. Martin is pure EVIL!”

Armin looked up at Eren, who was positively fuming. “I know.”

Eren half groaned, half roared, and collapsed on the couch next to Armin. He said something else, but Armin didn’t hear him. He’d put the book over his face.

“You know if you aren’t enjoying it, you can always just stop readi-”

Eren jumped back, hissing, before Armin even had a chance to finish. He cradled the book in his arms in a way that reminded Armin of Gollum coveting the One Ring, and he quickly scurried back into his room.

Armin chuckled. His grandfather had done the same reverse psychology to him whenever _he_ complained about a book, it worked every time.

 

***

 

“Armin!”

The sudden and always loud appearance of his boss made Armin jump and almost topple out of his office chair. Hanji rested their chin on the top of Armin’s cubicle wall, eyes manic.

“Y-yes Hanji?” Armin said, sitting up straight and hoping they didn’t notice his reaction.

If they did, they didn’t let on. “Sorry to spring this on you, but I’m gonna need you to work overtime tonight.”

Armin tried his hardest to hide his displeasure. “Oh. Why?”

“Well, I’m not gonna name any names, but someone SHORT and SKINHEADED in I.T. managed to lose the finished copies of our major articles for tomorrow’s paper, and as _Trost Herald’s_ senior editor, I’m gonna have to ask you to redo them.”

He made his displeasure known this time, screwing up his eyes and sighing. “Alright,” he said, deflated, “I’ll make sure everything’s ready for tomorrow morning.”

“Great! I can always count on you Armin!” They yelled, striding across the office and almost knocking into Sasha, spilling their ‘coffee’ (Armin tried it once, it was more like boiling battery acid than anything else) all over some pretty important looking paperwork. How this place was still standing, Armin didn’t know.

Armin pinched the bridge of his nose. He supposed he’d better call Eren and tell him he’d be home late.

“I’m sorry, Eren.” Armin sighed into the phone tucked between his ear and shoulder.

“Hey now, It’s not your fault,” Eren’s voice replied, full of caring. “I’m the one who should be saying that to you. I’ll tell you what, when you get home, I’ll order you all the take out you want, my treat!”

“You’re too sweet,” Armin smiled fondly. “You sure you’re gonna be ok?”

“I’m a big boy, I’ll be fine. I can just keep reading _Storm of Swords_!” Eren’s voice suddenly grew _very_ excited. “Armin oh my god! In the chapter I just finished, Robb _totally_ named Jon as his heir! It was all intentionally super vague, but it just _has_ to be him, right? Oh man, I’m so excited!”

The wheels in Armin’s head began to turn, and suddenly, it dawned on him.

If Eren had just read that, then must be up to when Robb was on his way to the Twins, and if Robb was on his way to the Twins then-

Oh no.

Oh _dear God no_.

A wave of panic swept over him. He could feel himself start to hyper ventilate. “G-great!” He tried his hardest to appear normal and not give anything away. If there was one thing Eren Jaeger hated, it was spoilers. “I’ll see you when I get home then! G’night!”

He slammed the phone into its cradle. Oh fuck. _Oh FUCK!_ What the hell was he gonna do? To say that Eren was… passionate about the things he loved was kind of an understatement. He’d personally seen the boy throw his shoes at and attempt to tackle guys _twice_ his size for saying ‘Radiohead is an overrated band’. Armin could only _imagine_ what he would do when he found out Robb Stark, one of his _favourite_ characters and someone he’d described with a completely straight face as ‘his rock’, was about to… to…

Armin gulped.

He needed to finish those articles as soon as possible.

 

***

 

After several hours of work and an _excruciatingly_ long commute home, Armin arrived at the townhouse he shared with his boyfriend. He took a deep breath, readying himself for the emotional wreck that Eren no doubt currently was, and slid his key into the lock. Tentatively, he crept his way through house into the living room.

Eren was… _fine_?

There he was, sitting on the couch, watching TV, comfortable and laid-back as you please, with no sign of a single tear across his perfect face. _What?_

After a few minutes of staring, Eren turned his head and spotted Armin in the doorway. “Jeez! You scared me!” Eren flinched, “How long have you been standing there?”

With every fibre of his being, Armin willed himself to be both relaxed and tense, praying he gave _nothing_ away. _I am marble_ , he said to himself, _I am stone_.

“Sorry,” he chuckled, “I should have knocked.”

Eren got up and crossed the room, greeting him with a hug and kiss. “You got everything finished?”

“Yup, everything’s done.” It was probably the single most atrocious collection of writing _The Trost Herald_ will ever publish, but it was done with time to spare.

“Great!” Eren beamed, crossing the room to pick up his phone. He gave Armin a playful grin, “What’s on the menu, Arlert?”

Armin was still in shock. Eren was really ok. He must have, for some unknown reason, decided not to read anymore that evening. _Oh thank god_. Armin breathed a sigh of relief, suggested they try that new pizza place that (blessedly) delivers, before deciding he needed to lie down. Between the work and the constant of emotional turmoil, He’d had a _long_ night. He left Eren to make the order and walked up the stairs to their bedroom.

And that’s when he saw it.

He regretted it the instant he flipped the light switch on. The room looked like aftermath footage of a Cat 4 hurricane. Armin had no idea it was even _possible_ for a room to be this wrecked. It was going to take him so long to get everything back to normal, his bookshelf _alone_ was going to take hours to hunt down every book scattered around the room. He’d also probably need a whole new bookshelf.

He sighed, feeling much like Stannis as he ground his teeth, and walked back down stairs, coming to a stop on the landing just as Eren hung up the phone.

“So,” Armin said, voice as flat as he could muster, “How was the book?”

Eren froze, his back to Armin; his phone slipped and fell from his grasp. Slowly, after what felt like an eternity of silence, Eren turned around. His face and eyes were puffy and red, his lip quivered, and crocodile tears began to spill down his cheeks.

All of the irritation Armin had felt moments ago drained out of him in an instant. Eren’s knees began to shake, and then they buckled, and Eren was in Armin’s arms before he had time to fall. He turned his teary snotty face into Armin’s shoulder and sobbed violently. Armin hoped he could salvage his sweater, but ultimately he didn’t care. Eren was so full passion. He cared _so much_ about _so many things_ , no matter if they were fictional or not. Eren loved recklessly and without fear, and he loved Eren, more than words could say.

 

***

 

“W-what…? Th-that’s it!?” Eren stared at the last page in horror. Madly, he began flipping the pages to the right. All he found were the appendices. “Tha-tha-tha-that can’t be it!” Eren stuttered. He slammed the book down and grabbed Armin by the shoulders, “ _Please_ tell me that isn’t it!”

Armin, who was next to Eren on the couch, smirked and closed his own book. “Welcome to the suffering that is the _A Song of Ice and Fire_ hiatus.”

“B-b-bu-bu-bu-bu-” Eren’s eyes jumped around the room, as if the only copy of the next book was hidden somewhere in their house. “But what about Cersei?” His voice cracked, “And Dany? And- _Oh God_ , what about _Jon!?_ ”

Armin put his book down on the coffee table and faced Eren properly, pushing his reading glasses up his nose. “No one knows. There are rumours that the next book’s coming out sometime next year, but those almost never turn out to be true.”

“But then… then…” Eren looked utterly crushed, his mouth contorting into horrified grimaces. His voice was so small “…When is it coming out?”

Armin’s amusement fell away then. He remembered how he felt when _he_ first caught up so many years ago, when _A Feast for Crows_ had just come out and there was no new book in sight. He wrapped his arms around Eren and gave him his warmest smile. “I’m sorry Eren. I don’t know. I waited _years_ for this one to be released, and it’s only been out for 18 months.”

Eren made a sound somewhere between a yelp and a squeak, his mouth hanging open, his eyes staring off into space. Armin leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. “Hey,” he said, cupping Eren’s cheek and turning it so they faced each other, “Cheer up. You’re one of us now, a true die-hard fan.”

Eren sniffed and rubbed the tears away from his eyes; he was smiling. He leaned down into Armin’s chest, and Armin cradled him there. If he was being honest with himself, Armin thought, Eren had been a die-hard fan for a long time now. It had been almost a year now, since Eren had asked about the book Armin was reading, the book he’d attested on multiple times had changed his life forever.

He remembered how inconsolable Eren was for weeks after the Red Wedding, how he couldn’t bring himself to even pick up the book. He moped around the house, almost lost his job. Jean even came over one day and was so surprised by Eren’s state that he thought he and Armin had broken up. Armin had been with him every step of the way though, with blankets and ice-cream and Eren’s favourite movies.

He remembered how shocked he was at Eren’s reaction to the Purple Wedding, stumbling in one Sunday afternoon looking shell-shocked and muttering ‘Joffrey’s dead.’ Eren had sworn vengeance on the whole Lannister clan the moment they lopped off Ned Stark’s head, and he hated Joffrey the most. ‘He was just a kid,’ Eren’s whispery voice had rasped, ‘he was just a kid and I wanted him to die.’ He had smiled at Eren fondly, and given him a hug.

He remembered how quickly Eren had fallen in love with Oberyn (in the literal sense of the word, threatening to leave Armin if for him if he actually existed (Armin was fine with this)). He was sassy, queer, filled with righteous passion, and had a deep hatred for the Lannisters. Eren related to him almost more than he related to Robb, which made it all the more painful when he was next on George R.R. Martin’s chopping block. Armin had rushed out of work faster than he’d ever left work on that day, slamming the ‘close elevator door’ button when someone tried to corner him on the way down. He’d hidden everything valuable in the house before Eren arrived home, made sure he was close by when Eren had started reading, and, once again, he’d held Eren when he cried.

He looked down at Eren in his arms now, who was undoubtedly heartbroken, but he wasn’t crying. Eren had changed in so many ways, and undoubtedly for the better. He’d become more patient, more thoughtful, and less volatile. The books had tempered him, much as its characters themselves had been tempered. Armin had never felt more proud or in love with him, and for once in his life, Armin found he didn’t have the words to explain it.

He reached up, running his fingers soothingly through Eren’s hair, gently prying him from the crook of Armin’s neck. He rubbed circles into the apples of Eren’s cheeks, his eyes and heart so full of love, and leaned down and kissed him. It wasn’t like the playful, chaste kisses they shared when they were kids, or the passionate and suffocating make-outs of their teens. This one was tender, and warm, and it filled Armin up inside so much he felt as if his chest would burst. He hoped Eren understood how much it meant.

When they broke the kiss, Armin’s eyes were still closed as he lingered in the afterglow. Then he smiled, took Eren by the hand, and led him up to their bedroom and, more importantly, his bookshelf. “C’mon,” he said, “I’ve got a few others I want to show you.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> The Book Armin is reading at the very start is Anna Karenina btw. I haven't finished it bc when do I finish anything, but what I have read I love very deeply, and I can picture Armin loving it too.  
> The story of Eren working at a Target Starbucks is based of a true story that happened to my friend Tori (who is also the beat for this fic). Be nice to your Baristas, children!  
> I'm always a slut for validation so if you feel like giving this a kudos or a comment, that'd be super nifty neato, thank you my dudes!
> 
> Here's hoping the next thing I write will be out soon, but no promises!


End file.
